Underneath It All
by MrsWrathful
Summary: Bella is new to town. She keeps to herself, but does her best to do the right thing. Unfortunately for her, small town living means rumors, secrets, cliques, drama and a hyper little pixie and some angry, brooding, actual Greek God. AH, OOC. Rated M for sexual themes, abuse/trauma and language.
1. AN

Author's note:

Hello :) This story might be sensitive to some, for language, sexual themes, abuse/trauma. I will continue this story until it's finishes, even if it takes a while. I ususally write on paper first- which isn't much of an issue. It's the typing it out. I have a 6 month old son, I'm a single stay at home mother so I can only type when he's sleeping and he only sleeps next to me, I need to be quiet lol. Anyways.

This idea has been in my head for ages and I need to get it out. I hope you all enjoy, I'll do my best and I apologize in advance if/when there is errors in grammar and whatnot. I have a ton of other ideas I can't wait to write. I've been a fan of twilight fanfic for at least 7 years haha so I'm glad to be doing this.

This story is all human, and mostly out of character. I do not own Twilight in any way, shape, or form. Thank you to anyone who reads this. Take care.


	2. Chapter 1

My mother lives in a small two bedroom home in Pheonix Arizona. I remember the day we moved in. I was eight, and mom picked me up from school in our shabby white Honda- the style with wood on the doors, of course. She said she had a surprise for me. We drove through the city and into a small subdivision. At the end of the road, stood a tiny run down house. Mom looked to me and squealed in delight, and told me _this_ was her new thing. She was gonna renovate out "new" house. It was basically falling apart and pretty old but it didn't matter. I returned her smile -warily, I'll admit. This was our first house. I loved it.

However, I'm realistic. A trait I most definitely _did not_ get from my mom. I knew it wouldn't happen. Mom also sais she was gonna be the next celebrity chef, yoga instructor, Hell once she even said she wanted to run for senate. All were over shortly, no more than a month or two. My eyes went from mom, to the house, then back at her. After seeing my mothers childlike excitement, I decided to keep my doubt and worries to myself. I tried to smile enthusiastically, hoping it wasn't a grimace.

I remember thinking how I could fix it up, as much as a child could, without any tools- the last thing I needed was a trip to the ER. I was right to think about that, because I was right about mom giving up. Renee quickly moved on to "sand art". I never wanted to be rude- but shit, she moved us out of our comfy apartment for this little dive. Sure, I was excited to have a house, finally. But I wanted a _home._ Every time I'd gently bring it up to her, she'd roll her eyes and say "it's not _that_ bad!" But I could see the sad look in her eyes when she seen the dull, dirt brown paint chipping in the kitchen, or the fake wood floors peel in the hall.

Renee has always been happy go lucky, and always tried new things. She got bored easily and gave them up, even joking about it. But this time, I could tell she was upset. Giving up cooking didn't matter, because I cooked anyways. Even though mom was more like a sister to me, she truly is a good mom. She always was. She wanted to give me a good home. Even though her plan fell through, she had good intentions. I understood though. It's just the way she is.

This was ongoing. Yes she had that new art hobby, but she couldn't stop the sad smiles every time a pipe burst, or the floor creaked loud enough to be heard through the whole house. Sant art wasn't exactly a big enough distraction, but she soon met Brandon- an accountant. And for once, I was hopeful he'd distract her for a while. Unfortunately, it only lasted a few weeks, nothing serious. He found her innocent wonder charming at first, but soon got tired of it and needed a "proper woman" as he put it. This broke mom down even more. She felt worse about her failed project of a home for me. I never thought too much of mom's dates, that's gross. But this guy really bothered me.

My mom is a great person. She's entertaining and funny. I knew she'd meet the right guy one day. I'm no dating expert, but in my opinion, she just went after the wrong guys. I have no idea what her compatable match would be like, but it sure as fuck wouldn't be like those tools. Mom was only 35, and to be quite frank, her dates were always a bit older and grandpa like. _Snooze!_

Mom never had much luck with men, and the house remained in a trashy state. Not a good combo. She kept finding hobbies, and I kept taking care of her and her responsibilities. I wanted to do _something_ to our house but I didn't wanna offend her. She seemed to, at least somewhat, get over it. As if she just gave up. But that's okay. It's who she is. I never had any friends so I didn't have to worry about bringing people over and feeling embarrassed. I felt guilty even thinking that.

I always cooked and cleaned. Turns out, mom _is not_ the next celebrity chef. I didn't mind, I liked to keep busy. It's been that way since I was seven so I'm used to it. But when I was fourteen, I began throwing out her supper. She wasn't there to eat it. Mom's a kindergarten art teacher, and always came right home unless she had a class for something, such as yoga. I knew our old fridge couldn't be trusted with leftovers so a lot went to waste.

I knew something was up. It was the first time she kept something from me, but I kept quiet. It was weird though. One day she came home with flowers, and only offered me a sheepish smile as an explanation. Or the time she brough home a shitty purple vase. I knew she didn't make it, hers weren't even that good. About a month later, it made sense. She brought a young man home. Phil. They met at her new hobby, pottery.

He hobbled towards me to shake my hand, his left leg in a huge bulky cast. He was a baseball player, moinor league. He shattered his leg in a car accdient- he decided to pick up racing as a hobby. He obvously couldn't play anymore. He said he took up pottery for something to do, even joking, "I guess racing was a bad idea, huh?" and mom laughed and laughed... right. He wasn't _mature_ per say, and only 27. Probably perfect for mom.

He was nice enough, funny too. Even tried to talk to me. He was quickly always around. It never bothered me when mom dated, but then again, it was never serious. Her dates didn't come around much. This was different. It felt... serious? It was weird.

One day I came home to Phil sitting on a chair with a long paint roller, painting our peeling muddy brown kitchen walls "ocean blue". He even got fancy and picked up a primer. I won't lie, I was a little pissed. This was supposed to me our house- just mom and me. But mom was standing on a counter, covered in paint, laughing and smiling. She looked genuinely happy. So I just turned around without making me presence known and went to my room.

Ever since that day, Phil did what he could do with a broken leg. Like fixing the trim or buying a new door stopper, readjusting a loose cupboard. Small things that meant that world to my mom. And got under my skin. One day he even bought her a new kitchen table set. She was so happy for his kind gestures she cried. I was actually livid, seeing red. Because she threw the other one out without a second thought. As a kid, we used to lay under there, tell secrets and draw. She threw out that memory.

A few weeks after that, Phil got his cast off. His muscle got torn in the accident so he had to go to physio. Mom tagged along. I was usually alone, even more after Phil came in the picture, but that's okay. I had my books and music and mom had happiness.

Mom was very helpful and encouraging towards Phil and his recovery. She really loved him. She'd sit in a chair with her arms out and say "come here baby!" and I'd have to stifle a laugh. He'd grin at me before complying. But soon, with mom's help, he could walk fairly normal.

Phil was actually a hard worker, which was a nice bonus. So it was only natural he wanted to go back to work. I even heard him say he wanted to help support mom, and shockingly even me. His job required him to travel. Mom tried to be enthusiastic. She was happy for him, but sad. Sad he was leaving.

He started work again when I was 16. I must say, it was odd to not have him around. I never had a father figure exactly, sure as hell never lived with one. He basically unofficially moved in. Mom stopped going to pottery- it had become their thing. In fact, she stopped picking up hobbies in general. She just shuffled her feet, read those shitty romance novels and moped around. I cooked and cleaned as normal but her life seemed to be at a stand still. They were still together. They talked all the time, every night. Texted all day and video chatted when possible. After she'd talk to him I could hear her crying quietly. When the towel hanger broke in October, he wasn't around to fix it. She sat and cried.

That's when I knew how much she needed him. That's when I decided to leave.

 **A/N: found an easy way to type. Text it to my email then copy and paste haha. Shouldn't be too slow.**

 **Thank you for the views already! Take care :)**


	3. Chapter 2

When my mom was eighteen, she met my dad, Charlie. By the time she was nineteen she was married and had a baby- me. By the time she was nineteen she also found her marriage to be difficult. Charlie is a good man, he's just too quiet and serious, according to her anyway. Mom loved the idea of a family. A quiet life in the small rainy town of Forks, Washington with a hard working sheriff as her hubby. But reality soon hit, it wasn't for her. She left him when I was six months old. I visited him every summer until I was fourteen

He never got over her.

She gave her life up for me. I was old enough now to to give her space. I was now seventeen It was her time to be happy with a good man. Mom tried to tell me no many times, sobbed and looked at me like I had two years when I told her I wanted to live in Forks for a change of scenery. I ignored her, especially when she called me out on my bullshit. I was making the conscious decision to do this.

And yet, as I thought about my choice to live with Charlie, I felt panic. As I said before, he is a good man. I meant that. But I haven't seen him in three years. How would be act? He never had me living with him, especially not as a teenager. How would _I_ act? I've never had a father exactly. Charlie and I kept in touch with the odd email but it was casual. Maybe this is what I needed. Maybe this would bring us closer together.

Apart from that, there were other issues. First off, it rains nearly everyday. That's dreary as it could be. I'm used to the humidity, sunshine and overall brightness of Arizona.

Secondly, it's _tiny_. As many students in my school, if not less, than my class back home. That's fucked. Know what else is fucked? The gossip, rumors, people knowing everything about everyone. That's what you get with small towns.

And lastly, with small towns, everyone already knows everyone. They have their whole lives. Already have their friends. I'll be an outsider. But I'm not too worried I guess. I don't need friends. I'll stand out though and I have attention.

I can only hope to blend in. Arrive unnoticed. But I'd bet anything news spread already. _The chief of police awaiting his long lost daughter_. That's the shit that small townies eat right up. I can see it making headlines in the paper. I know I'll get unwanted attention. Probably be in bad ways too.

My decision though, is not one I regret. Using my mom's words, I'm going to "try to see it as an adventure." I had already said my goodbyes to my mom and cried like a baby. I even produced new tears for Phil- he came home so he could say goodbye to me and take mom with him on the road.

I was excited to see Charlie. I honestly think, for the most part, this will be okay.

 **A/N: the chapters will get MUCH longer soon. I feel the need to add a little backstory as it might come back up. But this isn't the focus of the story. However I DO feel it's important to explain the beginning you know?**


	4. Chapter 3

I left early on a Thursday morning, arriving to the airport at nine in the morning. Mom and I said our thorough goodbyes a few days ago so we could pretend I wasn't actually moving. I left her little notes with reminders around the house, such as when to pay bills and to turn off the oven for when they return. I know Phil will take care of her but I had to be sure.

Since I got there so early, my plane not coming until eleven, I listened to music but found my mind wandering to dangerous places. Such as the way mom smiled at Phil, walking away with his arm around her after they dropped me off.

Maybe she didn't need me as much as I thought. Maybe she'd be okay. She sure didn't stick around to wait with me. She didn't object to me being well over an hour early.

 _Maybe she had been hoping for this._

Grumbling to myself, I stood quickly, grabbing my carry on. I stumbled in the process, attracting the attention from an elderly man. I blushed and dropped my gaze to the floor. I slowly - and carefully- made my way to the exit.

I stepped out into the sunlight, and squinted my eyes. It felt lovely. I dropped my bag to the ground and sat on the curb, taking a deep breath of that wonderful familiar humid air. I reached down into the front pocket of my bag and pulled out my pack of smokes along with a lighter from its carry case. I chose one after slight deliberation and lit it with my hot pink lighter. I still roll my eyes at that one.

Inhaling the sweet smoke, I leaned my head back, basking in some of my final moments of sun. Actual sun. My eyes were soon attracted to these two rocks, whinging rainbow glitter in direct sun. Very pretty.

Still focused on the rocks I realised my mind still wanted to wander. I smiled ruefully as I remembered when my mom first found out I was smoking.

I was fifteen and she went to grab her wallet from my bag. I had just paid bills earlier that day. Instead she pulled out a pack of smokes. She went downstairs, where Phil and I were sitting. She held them up and just looked at me. Her expression was unreadable and my stomach turned. I never wanted to disappoint anyone. Phil glanced at me with alarm, knowing they had to be mine. We all knew mom was _terrified_ of wrinkles. Mom burst out laughing and passed them to me, murmuring "kids will be kids" as she shook her head and winked at me. Phil didn't say anything. I'm sure he would have felt out of place. But the way he pursed his lips made his feelings clear. _At least_ he _reacted normally_.

Mom assumed I was smoking to fit in. She was probably hopeful too. She was always a little upset I never had friends. But it was the opposite, actually. I'd be mortified if anyone found out. I smiled for something to do. I guess I started to cope with being lonely, when mom started spending all her time with Phil. Not to blame her though. It calmed my mind and I'd be lying if I said a smoke, hot coffee and a good book wasn't one of life's best moments.

Without me asking, mom said she wouldn't tell Charlie. I was shocked. I didn't get in trouble. But I was a good kid. I never stepped out of line apart from this. Straight A's, never skipped school, model and honor student, cooked, cleaned, paid bills... I guess she didn't see it as a big deal.

Finishing my smoke, I stomped it out with my Converse. I slipped my lighter back into the case, along with my smokes, and quickly pocketeted the pretty rocks too. I checked the time. Ten thirty. I turned towards the doors and took a deep breath, almost bracing myself.

I'm really doing this. This is really happening. Positive vibes. High hopes. It's an adventure. Everything will be okay _. I think._

 **A/N: This ends the short chapters. These were only so quick to post because I had already printed them out on paper. It might not be typical for a "good girl" to smoke but 1) it's important to the story and 2) she's more like a well meaning, simple, grown up seventeen year old.**

 **Thank you for giving this a chance. I hope you're all doing well! :)**

 **-C**


	5. Chapter 4

The plane from Arizona to forks was only three hours. I had planned to listen to the new playlist i made -yes, just for this trip- of shitty sad songs so I could wallow in self pity. I've been meaning to re-read Wuthering Heights too. However every painfully overdramatic lyric screamed remained ignored and the pages remained unturned. For the life of me, I could not concentrate. My mind was fucking killing me with doubt and fear.

At ths moment, I was torn with thoughts about my mom. Yes I made this decision. She never hinted at it. She teared up and tried to stop me. _But why do I feel as though that was half hearted?_ I want her to be happy. I truly didn't want this to be hard for her. I know she needs to be with Phil. But even with all that said, I'm hurt. I'm hurt she let me go fairly easy, I'm hurt she needs him more than me, I'm hurt she didn't wait at the airport with me, and I'm hurt that she seemed grateful. I feel forgotten already.

Then, there's Charlie. We always got along just fine but something always felt awkward. Distant. I hope he isn't mad about me not visiting for a while. He could come see me but he didn't. I don't think he can be anywhere near my mom. He's still sad and fucked up over it I think. Which makes me feel worse because he should have his daughters support.

A part of me felt guilty for even thinking these things. Of course my mom would be happy to be with Phil- they loved each other. He was her first serious relationship since Charlie. She had me young, now it's her turn to live.

And as for Charlie, of course things would be weird. I look a lot like my mom, the woman who left him and shattered his heart. Plus I didn't grow up with him, so we never formed that father daughter bond. But I still love him.

I turned towards the plane window and turned up my music. I begged my mind to just shut up, I wanted to try to enjoy this ride.

I sat on the bench with my carry on, my knee bouncing up and down. I had just washed my hands in the bathroom so I wouldn't smell too much like smoke, and now I was waiting for Charlie.

He had texted me just a but ago to tell me to wait on this exact bench. Just as I was beginning to worry I sat on the wrong bench, I saw him walking towards me. I froze for a second when I seen him; he looked genuinely happy to see me. I grinned back at him, and he held up two cups of coffee. I laughed softly as he stopped beside me and put them on the bench. I sat up and he looked unsure for a second before he gave me a quick one armed hug.

"I'm so glad you're here, Bells. I missed you."

I felt my heart give a sad tug. "Me too Ch-dad." I felt even worse for not visiting now. I'm glad he didn't hear my almost slip-up of calling him Charlie.

I grabbed my cup, he knows I've always drank plain black coffee. He grabbed my bag and we made our way over to the exit to -oh fuck- his cruiser. Not attention grabbing at all.

 _At least he didn't wear his uniform._

The plane landed in Port Angeles, which meant we had to drive about an hour and a half to get to Forks. Probably could have been less but the chief always drives slow, apparently.

The drive was a but awkward, as expected. Charlie has never been one to talk a lot, and he's also not the best at small talk. He asked me about my hair getting longer, if I had any friends and of course, how Renee was. And that's it.

I spent the car ride staring out at the dreary scene whizzing past us. It just got worse by the second. Everything was this interesting deep green or a gross muddy brown. And it was wet. And to make it even worse, it was raining. Not a sunshwoer either, no, it was overcast. Dark and wet.

Charlie must have noticed my distaste, as I'm sure it was written clear on my face. He turned to me, eyes still on the road, and tried to reassure me.

"It's not that bad... the do have sun, sometimes. Maybe you should take vitamin D tho. It's good here. Safe."

The fact that he felt the need to reassure me made it worse.

But I just smiled apologetically to which he just shrugged.

"I'm sure it's great. Everything's... alive at least."

We pulled up to Charlie's house and I forced myself to not cringe. It was the exact same. Not only as it was three years ago, but since I was a child. As always. It was a tad depressing.

He lived in a white two bedroom house that had old fashioned shingles and a big tree on his front lawn. Very traditional.

When I seen that big red truck in the drive way, I was kinda scared he had some "welcome home" thing for me. I just stared at it, now really not wanting to get out of the car. He turned the car off and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I want you to be able to get yourself around. I'm sure that's important to you. Bought it from Billy, it's nothing fancy but it works fine."

Charlie's random act of kindness honestly made me feel like I was going to tear up. No it wasn't "fancy" as he put it but I loved it. It was so... me. I didn't exactly know what to say but I saw his efforts. He thought of me.

"No dad, that's perfect. I love it! You didn't have to... thank you."

His next words hit me right in the heart. "I'm just glad you're home."


	6. Chapter 5

I think everyone can agree that some places, if not most, have a certain smell. Such as the mall, the library or your aunt's house. You just don't forget it. That's what it was like walking into Charlie's house; familiar. It always smelled like wood and coffee. It has been three years since I've been here yet I still find it to be very familiar. It was almost comforting in a way.

As I stood in the doorway, looking around, I wasn't exactly shocked to see nothing was different. There was an old fashioned fire place, decorated with burned candles, a tim of fire tools, and pictures of me and Charlie's friends, mainly Billy and Harry. My favorite one was always the one where they're holiding a massive fish. He also had a faded white couch that was in front of the TV, and on the wall above the couch was a dusty mirror. Glancing over at the windows I noticed they too, were dusty and even a bit dirty.

Charlie cleared his throat which reminded me he was still there. I turned towards him, feeling as though I should say something. "It's the same."

"Yeah... I've never changed anything much," he chuckled. "You ah, remember where everything is?" I nodded so he continued. "Okay. Your mother and... Phil sent you your things last week. I put the boxes in your room."

"Thanks, for everything."

He gave me a smile, placed my bag on the floor and headed to the kitchen. One of the nest things about Charlie? He doesn't hover.

I picked up my bag from the floor and headed up the stairs. The bathroom was on the left, Charlie's room was right across from it. And mine was at the end of the small hall, around a little corner. At least that felt more private.

I got to the door and paused with my hand on the knob. It felt... _weird_ to just walk in. It didn't feel like my room. But obviously if I knocked, no one would answer. I was being silly. I opened the door and came so fucking close to laughing. Instead, I stared in disbelief. I had expected my stuff to be gone. Or moved. Put away. Something. But no; everything remained. Even my kid drawings. When I was fourteen I didn't really care. Now I see how childish this room looked.

Apart from that, I had an old pink lamp, butterfly curtains, and dull yellow walls. If have to change my room. My bed was the same but I got a new one when I was thirteen so at least it was a double. Charlie must have gotten me a new blanket because in place of my torn yellow one -was I trying to match the walls?- was a thick purple one.

But what I was most shocked to see was a desk, against the back wall. It was simple, with a plain black swivel chair, but I loved it.

In the middle of the floor, were two large boxes. With a set of keys on the biggest one. It consisted of two keys, both having a rubber grip on them. I blushed slightly when I realized Charlie probably thought I was clumsy enough or drop or lose them. He was probably right. They were clearly labeld "home" and "truck".

Another kind gesture.

I grabbed one of they keys and opened the boxes, not entirely knowing what was in them. It wasn't anything exciting really. Books, toiletitries, clothes, laptop and charger, the few makeup items I did have, straightener, boots and thankfully, a warmer jacket. Phil must have picked it out because it wasn't girly. I liked it. I knew my mom was packing these for me but what I didn't expect was a few packs of cigarettes at the bottom. I spun around, almost tripping in the process, to make sure Charlie wasn't in the doorway. I closed the door for good measure.

There wasn't much in my carryon, Wuthering Heights, a romance novel my mom packed, trashy magazines, headphones and my phone cord. I didn't have much to do, really. Placing my laptop on my new desk, and putting my clothes in the closet barely took up any time at all. I didn't bother to take my toiletries out, as I decided to leave them in the bag. I took my time with the rest, such as placing my books in a neat stack on my desk, hiding my lighter and smokes in my nightstand.

God, I'd kill for a smoke right now.

When I was done, I took a glance around my room. Sighing softly, I decided it wasn't too bad. I had a bulletin board filled with old pictures of me growing up. I took those down, along with my old "art". The posters on my wall were next to go. A seventeen year old girl didn't need a poster of The Powerpuff Girls or Club Penguin.

A few finishing touches and I was done. I grabbed my phone and sent a quick text to my mom.

"Thanks for sending my stuff. Got here in one piece. I love you."

I slipped my phone in my back pocket, and left my room without a second glance. I walked downstairs and into the living room doorway. I don't think he heard me so I cleared my throat before I spoke. "Hey... thank you. For my room. The desk and stuff. It really looks great. I appreciate it."

He looked up at me and smiled sheepishly. "The young lady who works at the store picked them out... I didn't know. You're welcome."

It got silent then and I'll be honest, It was a bit awkward. I felt like I needed to _do_ something.

"Mind if I take a look in the kitchen? I could cook for us."

He seemed to freeze for a second before his cheeks and eat a were tinged with pink. "Bells... I'm not gonna lie. There ain't much there."

I stared at him blankly. "Do you cook?" He shook his head. "What do you eat?"

"Uh The Lodge is good. So is pizza."

"Is it cool if I cook here? It'd be nice to have something to do. Feel normal."

"Bella, I'm a grown man, I can-"

"I know!" I nodded quickly. "This is for me. Promise."

He agreed and told me he's let me do the shopping, and he'd leave me grocery money before he goes to work tomorrow. I also assured him he did not need to take the day off to spend it with me or show my around when he asked. I didn't mention it but I wanted to be alone. Get to know the feel of the town again and recharge.

I went back to my room after that, I wasn't hungry and neither was Charlie. I sat on my bed, biting my nails. I was tired but knew I needed a smoke. I tried to remember when Charlie went to sleep... It was Thursday so he worked tomorrow. He'd be up early. Surely he'd go to sleep soon. I hope.

I plugged my laptop in, and loaded up Facebook. I watched a few short funny videos and finally heard my dad clunk up the stairs loudly. I opened my door a crack, so I could know when the coast was clear. Soon, I heard his loud snoring. I tiptoed o my night stand, opened t quietly, and took out my lighter and a cigarette. I slipped on a light hoodie and walked out of my room slowly, so I wouldn't fall. I made my way past his door, took a pause and continued when I heard him fast asleep. I crept down the stairs and soon enough I was outside, with my saving grace. I chose to stand behind a tree in the back; no neighbors on this side. It was magical. I put my hood up and tried to cover my smoke from the rain.

 _If he knows I went outside, I'll tell him I just needed air._

Luckily, I was able to smoke without being caught. It would be weird to have to sneak around with this again. I could tell him but I didn't want him to be disappointed. Even though I hate lying, this was for the best. I went to bed right after, wanting a shower but having no energy. I layed in bed, tossing and turning, before I fell into a fitful sleep, to the sound of soft wind and the rain hitting my window.


	7. Chapter 6

I've always been the type of person to wake up early. Not because I'm a morning person but because it's my pattern. I always woke myself up for school, even as a kid. Then I'd wake mom up for work. But today I woke up extra early, it was so damn cold. I was freezing. I'll admit, when I first woke up, I was a tad confused. This isn't my room. Only... it was. I wrapped my blanket around me tightly and grabbed my phone to check the time. 5:36am.

It was Friday today, and I didn't start school until Monday. So I didn't have a reason to stay up but knew sleep would be impossible right now. My window was closed and I was in my normal PJs- an old t-shirt and thin plaid bottoms. Might be time for thicker clothes and sleeping with the heater on.

I really wanted a shower but didn't know when Charlie got his and I didn't want to ruin his schedule, if he had one. I layed in bed for a little bit, not really knowing what to do. Scrolling through Facebook got a bit boring so I checked my texts. None. My heart fell a bit and I tried to feel better by rationalizing that mom's phone probably died. Maybe she forgot her charger. I should have reminded her.

Finally, at quarter after six, Charlie woke up. I waited until he was out of the shower to go downstairs. I found him in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee. He turned around when he heard me come in.

"Morning, Bells. You're up early."

"I always am." I shrugged.

"Morning person? I'm not in the least bit!" He said with a laugh. "Make yourself at home, really. Coffees there, I'm sure you can find yourself something to eat... Oh, right! There's money in the jar on top of the microwave, it's always been for groceries but honestly it's become pizza money. Get the groceries and anything you need. Doesn't have to be today but it's there."

"Thanks dad, I appreciate it. I promise I'm a decent cook!"

"You better be!" He called out on his way out the door, closing it behind him.

When I heard his car leave, I made my way over to the stairs, reminding myself there's no need to run and get hurt.

I soon found my way over to the tree in the back, having that glorious morning smoke. I sighed softly. It really is the small things in life. I stubbed it out at the base of the trunk and hid it in the overgrown grass, just like I had yesterday. I made my way back into the house, excited to be alone.

First on the list was a shower. I entered the bathroom and stared at the shower knob, thing to remember how this one works. Luckily, it wasn't hard, and I stepped into the warm streams, revelling in the smell of my strawberry body wash and in the way the hot water seemed to get the knots of stress out of my neck and back.

A little while later, I was dressed for the day. Nothing fancy, just light faded skinny jeans and a long sleeved shirt. My hair was carelessly thrown into a messy ponytail. I had a mug of coffee poured and sitting on the table, still hot, as I got up to check the inventory in Charlie's kitchen. I hesitated a little; going through his stuff felt wrong but I needed to make a list.

Upon inspecting, I groaned out loud. He was not joking. All he basically had was a lot of fish, bread, butter, a couple frozen meals and a box of Cheerios with the bag open. I rolled my eyes and threw it into the garbage. I could tell just by looking at them that they were stale.

 _I was definitely going shopping today._

I sat back down at the table, sipping my hot coffee, as I wrote a list of what I needed.

As far as I know, or at least what I remember, Forks only has a few place to go. The grocery store, Newtons sporting goods, The Lodge, a pizza place and a small cafe. I decided to stop at the cafe for breakfast first, seeing as how stale Cheerios are not my thing.

I left the house and stepped into the light mist. I walked to the truck- my truck, and climbed in thankfully without incident. I froze. What's that smell? Smoke. Cigarette smoke. Billy is- or at least was- a smoker and must have smoked in here. I let out a small giggle; luck was on my side. I took my phone, lighter and smokes and put them in the cup holder. Patting my jeans to make sure I had my wallet, and I was soon off.

I didn't exactly know where the cafe or grocery store was. But I figured Forks was so small, I could find it easily enough. I grit my teeth as the rain picked up. I was determined to enjoy my day of solitude and not let that piss me off. Too much.

The cafe was called "Joe's" which I thought was funny as I assumed it was intentional because coffee is sometimes called Joe. Joe's as the opposite way of school so it was thankfully mostly deserted. I pulled in the empty back parking lot and shut my truck off. With little thought, I glanced around, rolled my window down a bit and lit my smoke, leaning back in contentment.

I would never have done that if I thought someone was around. That would embarrass Charlie.

The grocery store wasn't hard to find either. I was used to big cities so this was a walk in the park. I pulled up as I was finishing my blueberry muffin. Quickly drinking the rest of my coffee, I hopped out of my truck and went into the store, actually excited.

I was back home and putting away grocerues by one o'clock. I didn't go crazy, just what I thought I'd need to cool actual meals. I organized all the cupboards. After everything was all done, I took a step back to admire my work. It felt more at home, while weird, fresh fruit on the counters.

I knew I wanted to cook tonight but I wasn't sure what to make. I ended up going to my room for a bit, watching Romeo And Juliet. Even though there was a modern twist, I still love it. Any kind of classic has a spot in my heart.

When the movie was done, I decided to make a simple dinner: fettuccine Alfredo with chicken and broccoli. _I wonder the last time Charlie had fresh vegetables_. As I left my room to go downstairs, my phone buzzed.

 _"My phone died! Can I call you tomorrow? We love and miss you, Bella Bean!"_

Hearing from my mom brightened my day. Maybe I was overreacting before. I had a little smile playing on my lips and my heart felt warm.


	8. Chapter 7

I felt the dread and anxiety creep into me before I even opened my eyes. It was Monday, my first day at Forks High. I kept my eyes closed for a while, not even bothering to check the time. _Maybe I slept in, maybe I'll have to go in tomorrow instead..._ but I guess that would be too easy, because when I finally got the nerve to check the time, it read 6:07am. I was grumbling to myself from the time my feet touched the cold floor all the way down to the kitchen.

Charlie was already awake, and in the shower so I wasn't shocked to see coffew already made. I poured myself a mug and took it back up to my room. While I was waiting for Charlie to get out of the shower so I could get mine, I stood in front of my closet. I knew I needed a decent outfit but nothing seemed right. I wanted to blend in but sometimes my normal clothes screamed "I don't care". I rolled my eyes and gave up for the moment, laying back on my bed. Not too long after I heard the water shut off, and waited until Charlie was in his room before I grabbed my bag of toiletries and headed to the bathroom, hoping a nice shower would calm my nerves.

In the shower I tried not to think negatively. I didn't want to think about my concerns or anxiety, at least not right then. My mind wandered to the last few days. I had a good weekend although nothing exciting happened, really.

My mom called me on Saturday, for which I was very grateful for. She wasn't exactly sure where her and Phil were at the moment, which made me nervous. She's doing good though, she took a few weeks off work for a "vacation". She says she'll figure the rest out later, to which I rolled my eyes. So irresponsible. Phil is doing good too, mom swears he plays better when she's there. Maybe he does. I didn't talk to him as he was ordering food but she sounded happy and says he is too. I know in my heart I made the right decision. There wasn't much to talk about. I had nothing to update her on. We didn't talk about my move or Forks or Charlie. I needed more time before that happened and she understood. It was nice. We made a promise to send lots of emails.

And as for Charlie, things went well over the weekend. Sure it was still awkward and almost detached in a way, but he's fine. He complimented my cooking and he seemed thankful, but wary at first to try it, thanks to my mom who's a terrible cook. I seemed to really prove my culinary skills last night when I made him a sort of "thank you" lasagna. He loved it.

All too soon, I was done. And the shower didn't do shit. Stress still wracked my whole body. I honestly felt mad, even. I knew I was about to be the center of attention and gossip. I was so uncomfortable with that thought. Very uneasy. By the time I got back to my room, I no longer gave a fuck about my clothes, so I just quickly got dressed in dark blue skinnies and a gray v-neck. I left my hair down to dry to my naturally wavy hair and applied minimal makeup- mascara and lip balm. I gulped down my grossly lukewarm coffee and checked the time. 7:03am.

I grabbed my school bag, that contained my normal take alongs and now my school supplies and headed downstairs. On the counter was a 20$ bill with a note that _read "here's your lunch money, I ate the rest of lasagna, oops. Call me if you need anything, have a good day!"_

I felt a tug at my heart. That was nice. He always seems to do selfless things, it's nice to see him trying. He really was a good man. I skipped the money into my pocket and decides I might as well leave now. I knew I'd be early but that was the goal. Get there before anyone else. Maybe that will leave me somewhat unnoticed. Not before a much needed smoke though.

 **A/N- sorry for this short chapter. My son is sick and I don't have time to write much. But I also wanted the chapter of Bella starting school to be by itself. So next chapter she'll be at school. I know a lot of people don't like slow stories but it's important to me, thanks for sticking with this and YES it's gonna pick up! Take care xo**


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